Kingkiller
by Socca Kingkiller
Summary: The far-off sequel to Black and White. Hares and woodlanders off together, to defeat the (Vermin horde so far unnamed)
1. Part 1: Chapter 1: Leaving the Mountain

A hare, little more than fifteen seasons old, dashed between two older hares who were standing talking in the hallway. The older two stumbled backwards, surprised by his sudden appearance.

"Sorry mates, just coming through, wot!"

The hares shook their heads as they watched him race up the stairs to the forge room.

"Young Jack, always so enthusiastic. I wonder where he's off to now?"

"Hmm, good question, Fleetpaw. Though his energy is exactly why he's always sent away on who-knows-what assignments."

Fleetpaw grinned. "Well, when his missions fail, at least we get sent back into action."

"Aye, 'tis the honest truth."

Jack continued racing through the halls, then knocked on the door of the badger's forge room.

"'Tis Corporal Jackalone de Tonelo Kristaps, sah, reportin' for duty, sah!" he said, panting heavily from his run up the stairs.

"Come in," said the deep voice of the badger lord.

Jack opened the heavy metal door and stepped in. The splendor of it always took his breath away, the huge forge sitting right in the middle of the room, the huge windows with the breathtaking sight. Jack couldn't help but stare at the weapons rack at the side of the room. He had always wanted one, though he had never been given one as his missions never seemed to involve weaponry.

"Jack the Lucky, eh?" the badger lord said, getting up from his seat. "Well, sit here, son. We'll have to have a long talk. Morndew, come here, will ya?"

A hare opened the forge room door and hopped in.

"Yes sah, what are your orders, sah?"

"Go get General Rover, soldier."

"Sah, yes sah!"

The badger lord watched the hare bound down the steps. "Good soldier, that one. Loyal and energetic, much like you. It's too bad that her parents don't believe that she's old enough to join the Long Patrol, or at least take part in something useful."

"Excuse the interruption, sah, but why didja send for ol' Rover, sah? Why can't you give me my own mission briefing?" Jack asked, confusion clearly written across his face.

The badger lord smiled at the hare. "You'll see, Jack. Yes, you'll see."

A while later, an elderly hare wearing a dress uniform adorned with medals entered the room, closely followed by Morndew. Morndew looked at Jack questioningly. She was often on guard duty when Jack was given his missions; she knew that Rover did not usually make an appearance at the briefings. Jack shrugged back at her to show that he didn't know what was going on any more than she did.

"You, wanted me, Lord Roguestripe?" he asked, throwing a casual salute.

"Yes, I did, General. Remember what we talked about?" Seeing the hare nod, he continued. "Well, it's time.""Are you sure, sah?"

"Yes, Rover, I'm quite sure."

"Alright then. Jack, me young buck, follow me," he said, walking towards the weapons rack. Puzzled, Jack followed him. Once they made it to the rack, Rover gestured towards the array of weaponry.

"Come on, young fellow. Chose one, m'lord's decided that it's time," he said. Seeing Jack wandering around, having no idea what to pick, Rover added, "Make sure you make the right choice, these weapons could be the difference 'twixt life and death."

Upon spotting a huge broadsword, Jack moved excitedly towards it. He tried to lift it up, only to find that he couldn't even make it budge. He kicked the wall in frustration, only to be hit by an axe that fell down on top of him. Jack picked it up.

"I'll take this. If I can't decide on my own, I'll take it as a bally omen that this one fell on top of me," he said to the general with a rueful grin on his face.

"Hmm. Good decision, that's a good axe. Not my favorite, of course, I prefer the ol' longbow," Rover said, fondly patting the nearby bow that was leaning against the wall.

Together, Rover and Jack returned to where Lord Roguestripe was sitting, Morndew all the while staring in envy at Jack's axe.

"Really Jack, an axe? I had no idea that was the type of weapon you'd choose," he said, grinning as Rover started a chuckle.

"Well, sah, it's a bit of a funny story. I couldn't-"

Rover began laughing hysterically. "He-he couldn't decide, an', an' an' then he-"

"I can tell my own flippin' story, thank you very much, General sah!" Jack said indignantly. "As I was saying, I couldn't decide until I spotted that huge broadsword in the corner. I ran at it, thinking that-"

"The sword in the corner? Jack, that sword was made for a badger!" Roguestripe said, stifling a grin.

"As I was saying, I picked it up, and I swung it in this mighty arc, knocking over this axe. Then, the ol' General here said, 'Oh, Mighty Jack, that sword is so big that you will wear yourself down bringing that everywhere. Take this axe instead, take it as an omen,' he said ," Jack said, evidently frustrated with all of the interruptions.

"Th-that's not wot 'appened at-" Rover started, tears of merriment openly streaming down his face

"They should call you Jack the Fibber," Morndew said with a grin on her face.

"Flippin' bally hares, no bally respect for flippin' ol' me!" Jack grumbled, striding from the room in a haughty manner.

A few minutes later, General Rover had convinced Jack to return to the forge room, were he would receive his mission briefings. This time, Jack entered without knocking, though he was a little confused as to why Morndew wasn't standing guard like she usually was. Once he entered he found Lord Roguestripe staring off out the window. Jack stood there for a while not wanting to disturb his Lord's peace. After a few minutes of standing there, the badger lord turned.

"Jack, do you know why I dismissed Morndew?"

Jack was taken aback by the question. "Of course not, sah. How would I blinkin' know why you dismissed you flippin' sentry, sah?"

Roguestripe dismissed Jack's question with a wave of his hand. "Jack, no more sirs. I mean, it's understandable in the presence of your comrades, but not with me. Anyway, for your mission briefings. Did you hear of what's been happening near Redwall lately?"

Jack, though puzzled by Roguestripe's objection about calling him sir, responded almost immediately.

"Yes, uh, Lord Roguestripe, at least, I think so. Wasn't there a band of blinkin' vermin stealin' from the travelers?"

"Quite right, Jack, and you can just call me Roguestripe. Now, your mission is to infiltrate the band and gain info from the inside. If you can, try to sabotage them before returning home. But if you can't, just return here and tell me what you learned. I decided to give you your own weapon because this mission could be dangerous. Understood?"

Jack stood there in dumb shock. Roguestripe was trusting him with this mission? After all of his failures? After a short while, Jack managed a few words.

"Ah, sah-Roguestripe, sorry, why're you sending me on this mission? I mean, all due respect, and I accept, but why me?" he asked.

"Because you, Jackalone de Tonelo Kristaps, need to prove yourself. You're the envy of the leverets and the other young 'uns, but all of the older ones think that you make a mess of everything. I'm giving you the chance you need, Jack, because you are the son I never had. After your mother died in birth, your father went into a state of deep depression. He stopped eating, stopped drinking, and he wouldn't talk to anyone. After a while, he died. So I took you in. I want you to succeed, I need you to succeed. That's why I sent Morndew away. I can't have my soldiers thinking I've gone all soft, now can I? Roguestripe said with a smile as he pulled Jack into a hug. Jack was so surprised that he could hardly speak.

"I don't want to lose you, Jack, so stay safe. You know Mile Manycoats, right?"

"Yes, Roguestripe. Do ya want me te go see him?"

"Yes, please Jack. And remember what I said."

"Yes sah, and I'll stay safe, I promise."

* * *

_Well, here it is. The first chapter. Hope it turns into more!_

_This is sort of part of a backstory for Jack-Is-Lucky from the Grey Coincidence's story Black and White, though I kind of changed him and his parents, hope you don't mind Grey._

_Edit: This was turned into a far-off sequel since I first wrote this chapter, I have edited it sa that it fits._


	2. Chapter 2: Goodbyes and Farewells

Abbot Martho walked towards the Great Hall at a fast pace. He needed to convince the other elders that a defence of some sort needed to be established. The elders, however, believed that the abbey must remain peaceful and if they did, the vermin would leave them alone. Abbot Martho, on the other hand, believed, that the vermin would keep on stealing and terrorizing the woodlanders until they either stole every object of value in Mossflower or were chased away. The only beasts on his side were Badgermum Hoppe and her adopted son, Hampin. The mouse believed that were Skipper here, he would have helped, but he had left a few seasons ago to explore the streams.

The Abbot pushed open the door of the great hall, finding all of the elders sitting calmly in their seats, save Hoppe, who was pacing around anxiously.

"Alright, how're we going to start this. I believe that-" he was interrupted by Lealyn, the infirmary aide.

"We all know what you believe, Martho. But we don't agree. The vermin will leave us alone if-"

"They won't!" Hoppe boomed, making Lealyn cringe with fright. "I know vermin, they will stop at nothing until they have either killed us all or taken everything from us, including our abbey."

"Then why don't we send out a warning bell and get all beasts inside the abbey? We could lock up the gates, no vermin could get through those," this came from Friar Wappity, well known for avoiding conflict at all costs.

"And leave all of their homes to be destroyed? No! You're not listening! They will burn everybeasts' home, then come here. They will burn our gates, if we don't stop them. They will-"

"ENOUGH!" Abbot Martho yelled, surprising everybeast. "I will not have screaming and yelling in our abbey for no good reason. In fact, there is never a good reason to scream and yell. We need to discuss this calmly and carefully, as to not arise everybeasts' tempers. Now, does any beast have an idea?"

"I do," Hampin said, walking up from where he had been leaning against the doorway, listening to the conversation. "We could get everybeast inside the abbey, just like the good Friar said, then we could send someone out to scare the vermin away. We learned at Abbey School that vermin are superstitious, so whatever beast did the task could play on that. Once the vermin are gone, everything could return to normal."

"And who do you propose to do this dangerous task?" Sister Lealyn asked, having recovered from her fright.

"Me."

This proclamation sent bouts of laughter throughout the room.

"You? You're barely seventeen seasons old! You'll never be able to do anything to them!" Brother Haple said, tears of laughter running down his face. Quick as a flash, Hampin had fitted an arrow to his bow, which had been lying next to him, and fired an arrow right into the grayling that was sitting on the table's eye. Everybeast grew silent.

"No one jests about my capabilities with this bow. Who would you suggest? None of you, that's for sure. You're all too cowardly to-"

"Why don't we send the Abbey Warrior?" Sister Lealyn asked meekly.

"We don't have one! Stop thinking about yourselves for once and think about the big picture! Why don't you just send-"

Hampin's tirade was cut off by Hoppe's deep voice. "Hampin, could I see you outside, please?" she asked, motioning towards the door. Hampin obeyed, leaving the others to contemplate what the huge badger could possibly have to say to the young squirrel.

"Hampin, you need to try to avoid insulting our entire abbey. You get insulted easily, which I know you know. I know that you try, but more often than not you get frustrated that no one is understands you," Hoppe held up her hand, stopping Hampin's response. "No excuses. I'm not saying you shouldn't go, but I'm warning you that talking to the elders about it will not work. All you need is the Abbot's permission, which I don't think will be too hard to get. Now-"

"You're saying that I can go? Yes yes, yes yes yes..." Hampin's cries faded away into the distance as he dashed off to the lawns. Hoppe shook her head and reentered the Great Hall.

"So, if no one objects, I would like to conclude this meeting," she said.

"Without a solution?" Friar Wappity asked incredulously.

"No, we have a solution. We'll follow through with what you said and ring the warning bell. And yes, I agree with Hoppe. Meeting adjourned!" Abbot Martho cried, walking right out of the Great Hall before anybeast could object.

As the counsel dispersed, Abbot Martho hurried to catch up to Hoppe, who had been on her way to her room in the abbey.

"Hoppe, what did you do with Hampin? How did you convince him to leave?" he asked.

"I told him that if you agreed, he could take on his mission," Hoppe said, smiling at Martho.

"You let him?" Martho said incredulously. "You're going to let your own son go attacking vermin?"

"Don't worry, Martho. I'll talk to him, he's still getting ready. Besides, I'm sure Timbal will have a talk with him as well," Hoppe answered, starting down the path towards the pond, where she was sure Hampin would be.

Though Abbot Martho softened at the thought of his own sensible son, who was also Hampin's best friend, and Hoppe talking to Hampin and giving advice, he decided he needed the last word.

"Wait! I haven't given him permission yet!"

"Permission asked."

"Permission granted."

"Thank you, Martho!" Hoppe called, disappearing behind the corner of the abbey.

Hoppe found hampin sitting on a tree stump next to the abbey pond, dying the feathers on his arrows a deep blue. When he noticed Hoppe walking towards him, he put down his jar of dye and his arrows.

"Hey Hampin, you just received permission from the Abbot to carry on with your mission. Why're you dying your arrows blue?" she asked him.

"Thanks, mother, for getting me permission. I'm dying my arrows for two reasons: one, because the tribe I came from's colour was blue, so I suppose it's just a personal thing. Two, part of my plan to terrorize the vermin involves coloured arrows," he responded. Suddenly, his voice turned a little more serious. "Mother, why are you acting so bubbly and cheerful? This isn't the usual you, not to mention that I'm about to go off onto a dangerous mission."

Hoppe gestured that he follow her behind the abbey, and once he did, she pulled him into a hug and started sobbing. "Hampin, I-I don't want to lose you, and I want you to know that I will always have faith in you, no matter what," she said. "I'm acting like that, and probably will continue to act in that manner until you return. It's my way of hiding my feelings, assuring myself that it will be alright."

Hampin was greatly surprised by her breakdown. She was normally a great, solid badger, warm and compassionate but stern. It was unusual for her to show such emotion.

"Now now, mother. Calm down. Why don't you go to your room to rest until I leave?" Hampin suggested, patting her on the back.

The Badgermum smiled gratefully at him. "Good idea, Hampin. But don't you dare leave without me!" she said, disappearing around the corner into the abbey.

Hampin had just reached his stump to continue to dye his arrows when his friend, Timbal, walked over. Hampin looked up, noticing that he was hiding something behind his back.

"Hey Timbal, what are you hiding behind your back?" Hampin asked, getting straight to the point before Timbal started talking on and on and on about nothing.

Timbal scowled. "Hey, what was that for? I had a whole speech planned, aye, and gift too. But nooooo, you just had to ruin it with your stupid question!" Timbal grumbled.

"Alright Timbal, what's the gift?" Hampin asked, trying to hold back the grin that was trying to get through.

Timbal finally relented. "Alright fine, here it is," Timbal said, pulling a shining short sword from behind his back. "I found it in the gatehouse cupboard where the elders keep all of the old weapons. I cleaned all the rust off of it and rubbed at it until it shone."

"Wow, thanks Timbal. But how did you know I was leaving?" Hampin asked, taking the sword and making a few practice swings.

"Well, I thought I would give it to you as an ordinary gift, but then I, uh, happened to, uh, _overhear_ the council's meeting. I knew that nothing would really stop you from doing that, so I thought I'd give it to you now," Timbal said, scuffing the ground in embarrassment as he related the fact that he had been eavesdropping. "I was going to get old Rolin the Metalworker to put a jewel or something on the hilt, as it looks pretty plain, but I mean, it works for now," suddenly, his face brightened. "Hey! Why don't I train you until you have to leave!"

"Great idea, Timbal!" Hampin said as Timbal drew his own sword. Timbal was probably the best sword fighter in the abbey, and it was almost common knowledge that he would one day be the new Abbey Warrior. The only reason he wasn't already was because the entire council, no exceptions, believed that he was too young.

They fought on for a couple of hours, until the bells rang for suppertime. Hampin had shown a natural ability with the sword, though he still preferred the bow.

The next day, it was time for Hampin to be off. Most of the abbey was gathered in front of the main gates, saying their goodbyes and personal advice.

"Goodbye, Hampin!"

"Slay one of 'em for me. eh Hampin?"

"Don't forget to clean your sword!"

"Hampin, please survive. I don't know what I'd do without your company," Hoppe said, tears streaming down her face as she bade him farewell.

"Don't worry, mother. I'll survive. After all, if I don't, who'll be able to take care of you?" Hampin said, kissing her on the cheek before turning to leave.

With the goodbyes of all of the Redwallers still ringing throughout his head, Hampin ventured into Mossflower Woods, the cheers of the Redwallers lost in the distance.

* * *

_Ha! This is to all of you who thought this would be another Salamandastron. You'll probably be seeing just as much of Hampin here a of Jack. Anyway, I'm not sure you're going to really be able to call this a backstory for Jack-Is-Lucky after a while, especially after how much I changed about him. _

_Well, I'm going to try to get this on a weekly update, but don't hold me to it please. Sorry that these first two chapters were a little short, the next one _should_ be longer. That about wraps that up, hope you enjoyed!_


	3. Chapter 3: In Come the Vermin!

A ferret, the corsair Captain of the ship _Bloodlust_, stared back at the land he had just left. The southern lands of plenty, full of woodlanders long gone soft. Turning around, the evil-looking ferret turned to look at what remained of his fleet. At the moment, he had only half of a score ships under his command, including his own. Missing was one of his shore-raiders, the _Poison Terror_. The ferret left his perch and descended the steps down to the main deck, where his first mate, Darksnout, was yelling orders at his crew.

"Move yer lazy fat bottoms, ye deckswabs! Da Captain wants te reach da Resupply Island by nightfall, so 'urry up!"

"Darksnout, into my cabin immediately," the ferret said, making for the stairs that lead to the upper levels. The searat hurried to comply, though not before sending one last glare at the deck crew.

Once they had climbed a small flight of steps, which led to the Captain's cabin, situated just above the poop. After they had entered, the warlike ferret, dressed in full armour with a flowing black cape with red trim, removed his helmet and placed on the rack next to his desk.

"Darksnout, do you we have enough slaves to man all of the oars on board this ship and the others?" he asked, placing his adderskin gloved paws onto the table. The searat grinned, relieved that he could offer good news to his Captain.

"Aye, Captain Socca. I just received word from Captain Skullthief that 'e's filled all of the oarslots for every ship. The problem is, now his cells are full to the brim after ye took all of the Southswardians that ye could find."

"Stop calling me Captain!" Socca roared unexpectedly. "I will not be referred to as the same rank as my underlings. I killed the king of Southsward, which earns me the right to be king!"

Darksnout shrunk under his leader's harsh gaze. The ferret was terrifying sight, his silver burnished breastplate, trimmed with gold accentuated his black and white fur. His bright white fangs, stained red from the earlier battle, were bared, frightening Darksnout half to death. He had expected his Captain, now King, to be pleased withn the news. Instead, Darksnout's easy manner had backfired right onto him.

"S-sir, h-how about K-King Socca, Slayer of K-Kings?"

As suddenly as it had gone to anger, Socca's mood changed to content. Laughing heartily, the newly named king slapped the searat on the back, nearly sending him sprawling. "Hahaha! King Socca Kingslayer! I like that!"

"B-but sir, I said Socca, Slayer of Kings, not-"

Still laughing, Socca's face turned serious. "Yes, you did. But you are a dimwitted fool, and I am King of the Seas, Southsward, and many other untold lands! Who do you think has better ideas, you, my friend, or me?"

Not wanting to be fishbait, Darksnout stammered out the answer he thought best. He was right. "Y-ye are, me lord."

"You're correct," Darksnout could hardly contain his relief at the answer. "Now go and get my bosun. I need him."

"Yas, King Socca," the unusually tattooless searat responded.

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Yas, me Lord?"

"Go get some tattoos, will you? It's hard for the crew to respect a mate who doesn't even have the guts to get tattooed."

"Y-yas, me Lord," the rat answered, shaking visibly at the thought of the ship's cruel tattooist accessing his body.

* * *

Several minutes later, a different searat walked in. The _Bloodlust_'s bosun was one of the shortest, and fattest, rats that most had ever seen. the only reason that Socca kept him around was because he always had the equipment in order and kept the food stocks safe from the crewmembers greedy nature, though more than a few morsels had mysteriously disappeared while he was on duty. Wormbelly, for so he was called, had been demoted several times for his thefts, the only reason his punishments weren't more severe was for all of his past services. Of course, he was always reappointed when the new bosun proved himself incompetent.

"Ye wanted me, Captain?" he said, about to sit on the chair facing Socca.

"ENOUGH!" Socca roared, scaring Wormbelly so bad that he almost fled right then and there. "I will not be called Captain any longer. The commanders of _my_ ships are called Captains. I will not be the same! Oh, and you'll stand."

Wormbelly cringed. "W-wot would ye have me do, sir?" he asked, his oversized belly wobbling with each stammered word. He backed up slightly, not wanting to be within reaching distance of the King if he couldn't sit.

Socca dismissed him with a wave of his gloved paws. "We will discuss that later. It enough for now that you call me 'Lord' or 'King'. Not 'King Socca', though that fool mate of mine already called me that. And certainly not 'Captain'. I will not have that, not anymore. At any rate, do we have a good stock of food supply?"

Wormbelly brightened immediately at the mention of food. "Yes Cap'n-er, I mean, yer Lordship. We have enough to feed yer entire fleet tenfold!"

"What about the slaves?"

Wormbelly grinned nastily. "As long as weh kep 'em starved nice 'an good weh should be fine."

"If we fed the slaves well, would we still have plenty of food?"

Wormbelly's face drooped. "Why would weh wanna give da slaves plenty a food?"

"Just answer my question, Wormbelly."

"Yas sir, of course weh do, sir."

"But of course we'll keep that food for ourselves, won't we?"

Wormbelly's grin returned. "Of course, sir. Of course."

"Good. I like beasts who understand. Now, I need you to make an announcement," Socca said, drawing an evil-looking dagger with a red bound hilt and started to draw lines on the desk.

Wormbelly gulped audibly at the sight of the knife. "Uh, w-wot would ye like m-meh to make an anoun'ment about, K-King?"

"Oh, you know, just about how I will-" suddenly, the huge ferret's tone grew more menacing. "-No longer tolerate being called Captain!"

"B-but don't d-dey already kn-know that, s-sir?"

Socca leapt up and threw the dagger. It had so much force behind it that it snagged Wormbelly's jacket and pinned him to the wall. Socca drew a dagger identical to the one holding Wormbelly in place and placed it on his throat. "Of course they don't," he said, his voice deceptively calm.

"T-they don't?" Wormbelly asked, quaking with fear. The wallboards began to creak from holding up his weight.

"Of course not!" Socca roared. "Only you and that fool mate of mine know! Do you think I've called every beast in my fleet here to tell them that? No! The only reason you know before everyone else is because you are being given the honour of making the announcement!" Taking Wormbelly completely by surprise, Socca suddenly took his daggers and placed them into his belt, dropping Wormbelly to the floor, where he lay shaking. "I'm surrounded by idiots, yet my army is the most powerful of all these waters! Does that not show you who I am? What I can do?"

Wormbelly had recovered enough that he could stand up. "I-I'll r-round up da crew, sir."

"Please do. But don't forget to call for me when you're about to start."

"Y-yas sir."

* * *

**A few days earlier...**

Captain Moonfur was in a high bad temper. He and the crew of the _Poison Terror, _his ship, had been sent by Captain Socca to scout out a new stronghold to capture. So far, they had found nothing.

"Stir yer stumps, ye useless pieces of crabmeat. Weh need teh find somethin' useful afore we return tah the rest o' the fleet'" he said to the portion of the crew that was with him. he had left the others back at his ship under the command of his first mate, which would've been a bad decision if the mate was not just as terrified of Socca as everyone else. No one would dare returning empty-pawed to him.

"Ah, but we just woke up, Cap'n. Why'd we 'ave to leave so early?" a searat by the name of Karlost asked.

"'Cause I'd rather be back wit da rest o' da crew eatin' good stuff instead o' this narsty stuff," the almost completely white ferret answered, flicking a withered berry at Karlost. He swished his black diamond patterned tail irately at the crew's sluggishness.

Soon after, the crew was up and moving. Moonfur sent Karlost off with half of the crew to go scouting, while he went the other way.

"Oh, Karlost?"

"Yas, sir?"

"Don't go too far West. We don't wanna run inta that mountain."

"Yas sir."

A few hours later, Captain Moonfur and his party were deep in Mossflower, lost, and Moonfur's temper had only increased. He was hitting his men left and right, berating them for the smallest things.

"Hey, Hairpaw, get outa that bush!"

"But sir, I'm-"

"I don't care!" Moonfur screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. "I wanna get home. So let's 'urry up and wrap this up!"

A few moments later, Karlost came running towards Moonfur.

"Sir, we found somethin'!"

"Well, don't jest stand thar like a fool, tell meh wot ye found!"

"It was a little hut sir, and it looked inhabited!"

Immediately, Moonfur's band set off, following Karlost to where he had left his party. Pushing through dense woods, Moonfur was getting even angrier. Stupid branches and leaves were getting everywhere, and now he was covered in scratches.

"Ye better know where yere goin', Karlost," he said.

"I do, I do. It's just up here."

A few moments later, they found Karlost's band, all sitting around looking bored. Moonfur realized that he must've gotten himself so lost that he had circled back to where Karlost had been. But he was not about to et anyone know that.

"Alright, men. We're a goin' ta wait 'til tha inhabitants o' this place show up, then we're goin' ta jump 'em. Un'erstood?"

"Yas sir."

"Right then. Everyone, bundle up. Hairpaw, you've got first watch."

Everyone began to settle down, lying down for a bit of rest. Other than Hairpaw, who was muttering rebelliously.

"Huh, 'Hairpaw, you've got first watch. Hairpaw do this, Hairpaw, do that.' Well I'm done with that. Mebbe I can convince some of the others to come with me. Huh, that 'Cap'n' of ours is just lyin' there, sleepin'. Bet I could do the same," and with that, Hairpaw lie down to rest. Moonfur cracked open an eye, making sure that Hairbelly was properly asleep before rising. Captain Moonfur might've been short of temper, but he wasn't stupid. Hairpaw had been his punching bag for a long time, he had known that this had been payed, they always did eventually. maybe not immediately, but eventually.

Moonfur watched over the camp they were watching, examining every detail. By the looks of it, it was a shrew camp, though they didn't look like one of the large tribe's that usually travelled the Mossflower streams. Good. Loners were easy to capture. Captain Moonfur leaned against a tree, thinking thoughts of revenge.

A few hours later, just as it was getting dark, what looked like two small families of shrews arrived at their camp. Moonfur smiled in anticipation. There was only women and children; the men must still be out in the forest. Moonfur shook his men awake, telling them to keep quiet He motioned for Korlast to take half and circle to the other side. It probably wasn't necessary, but Moonfur didn't want to take any chances. Quietly, Moonfur crept as close to the huts as possible.

"Tibberinna, dear, please don't bug your brother. Oh, Farl, please stop jumping around, you're going to get all energetic before bed," suddenly, the mother shrew spotted Moonfur creeping towards her. She screamed. "Ahhhhhhh! Heeeeeeeeelp!" Acting fast, Moonfur tackled her to the ground, smashing her head into a pole, silencing her effectively. The rest of his crew followed his lead, gagging or knocking out the rest. Moonfur spotted Hairpaw standing aside from the rest, sucking one of his paws.

"Hey, Hairpaw, wot 'appened?"

Hairpaw scowled at his Captain. "That little tyke bit me," he mumbled past his hurt paw, kicking out at the little Farl.

Moonfur smirked at Hairpaw's complaint. "Mebbe that's 'cause you were too sluggish from yer sleep on watch," he said amidst the laughter of the rest of the crew. Hairpaw's face went red in shame.

Suddenly, Moonfur' turned serious. "Karlost, get that 'un talking" he said, pointing at the shrew mother that he hadn't knocked out.

Karlost obeyed, pulling out a rusty cutlass and walking over to one of the other little shrews. "I'm guessing he's yours." he said, pushing the rusty cutlass point into the babe's neck.

The shrew mother nodded frantically, motioning at Moonfur to remove her gag. Moonfur walked over to her, but before he removed it, he pointed at the little shrew, "One false move, and that 'un's dead," he said.

She nodded and he removed her gag. "Alright, little mousey, d'ye know of any fortress thing 'round her that weh can capture?" Karlost asked. Moonfur was furious that Karlsot had revealed Socca's plan, but he kept silent. As long as that shrew was kept under guard, they'd be fine.

"Y-yes sir. There's an abbey near here, proper fortress. You could take that."

Moonfur nodded, satisfied. "Right. Karlost, you take a little band of fighters and raob some travellers, so we can bring somethin' extra back to Cap'n Socca. I'll take the rest back teh the ship so weh ca notify Socca of our findings. We'll take these shrews with us, they might prove useful."

As the crew nodded in understanding, the shrew mother groaned with despair. Karlost lifted his blade and whacked the shrew in the face, and everything went dark for the shrew.

* * *

THE VERMIN HAVE ARRIVED! They're here! Now, to business. Because of my plot idea, I've had to change a few things. This is no longer a backstory of any kind, it's more of a sequel. Jack the Lucky, for example, is a descendant of Jack-Is-Lucky, though he inherited many traits. Not too far of a descendant, mind you, I believe just two generations. Jack-Is-Lucky is Jack the Lucky's grandfather. There will be others, some of which you may have already guessed. That's all, I will update soon!


	4. Chapter 4: Of Punishments and Memories

Hampin sat down next to an old fallen tree, wondering how he was supposed to carry out his plan. So far he had seen no sign of any vermin, and he had no idea where he was supposed to find them. To be perfectly honest with himself, he didn't even know exactly what they looked like. When he had asked others at the abbey about it, they had just said that if he saw an unusual species that looked menacing, be prepared to fight. Of course, he had seen sketches in the abbey records, but that wasn't quite enough.

Sighing, Hampin opened his pack and began preparing for the night. He removed his flint and steel, only to realize that he had no firewood. Hampin grumbled to himself. He was off to a bad start. As he wandered through Mossflower, he began to admire the beauty of the forest. The leaves were orange and red, littered all over the forest floor. Hampin looked up at the huge moon, it's light illuminating the forest. Several minutes later, Hampin was back at his camp with a pile of wood.

All of a sudden, Hampin was tackled from behind. Hampin retaliated by kicking out with his foot paws, sending his attacker flying. Hampin stared in astonishment at the beast. It was a ferret! Snarling, the ferret ran right back at Hampin, only to be shoved down by Hampin's strong arms.

"How dare you attack me, Sarl the Strong, son of Habida, son of Fret the Fearsome!" the ferret cried.

Hampin pushed harder. "Huh, more like Sarl the Sneak. You snuck up here and attacked me!"

The ferret's tone turned pitiful. "I-I'm a ferret. A vermin. What do you expect? My grandfather was always misunderstood. They treated him poorly, they hated him! All because of his species," Sarl said, sighing despairingly. "I suppose we're all the same, huh?"

Hampin softened a bit at this, though not completely. He had been taught that vermin were sneaky. "Hah, why should I believe that you're any different from any of them?" That was the wrong thing to say, and Hampin knew it. The ferret broke down sobbing.

"All of you woodlanders are the same, judgmental and cruel. You judge us by our species, not ourselves. You don't know dirt about the world!"

Full of pity, Hampin released the ferret. "Well, I think you get a second chance, though don't try anything," Hampin said, his voice rising as he noticed Sarl going for his knife. "You know what, I think I'll take that."

Sarl scowled, but said nothing, sitting down next to the pile of wood.

* * *

The first thing Jack noticed was the loneliness. Mossflower was the loneliest place on earth when you were alone. At least in the dunes he had had the company of the locals, but Mossflower Woods appeared very uninhabited. Grumbling about his apparent inability to find what he was looking for, Jack climbed down into a ditch, hoping that the vermin would go down the path that ran alongside his ditch. Sweating from the heat, he tried to remove his intricately carved and painted mask in the likeliness of a fox. After a few minutes of struggling, he decided that it was futile. Obviously, the dune sands had damaged the inner mechanisms.

Lying down on a bed of fallen orange leaves, Jack lay down to rest, only to get poked from his axe blade. Sitting up, Jack crossed his arms sulkily. The trees must have cursed him! Yes, that must've been why he was seemingly unable to get any rest. Working himself up in a tree-hating frenzy, he threw his axe with all of his might, surprised that it struck true in the middle of an old birch tree. Wishing that he had some company of some sort to witness his great feat and to comfort him, Jack resheathed his axe.

* * *

Moonfur smiled to himself as he listened to Hairpaw trying to convince some of the crew to commit mutiny against him. It was a pitiful attempt. Most of the crewmembers just laughed, saying that Blackblood, Moonfur's first mate, would kill them all. Moonfur leaned forward in his desk chair, examining the charts in front of him. Taking a quill pen from his ink pot, he drew the form of the huge hare mountain, then the strange abbey that the shrews had told him about. Leaning back again, he thought of how ridiculously foolish Hairpaw was being. He was making plans for mutiny in the cabin right next to the Captain's own! Sighing, Moonfur closed his eyes to listen to Hairpaw's plans.

"Come on, hearties. Are weh not corsairs? If weh are num-a-rus e-nuff', weh can take our stoopid Captan an' his mate down!" Hairpaw cried, looking in the little dictionary he had found in one of the shrewmother's pockets to make himself sound more educated, and therefore more convincing.

"Ha har, yew'll never take down ol' Moonfur an' Blackblood. They're some 'o the bestest fighters in all of the fleet, aye, an' the two bestest fighters on this ship! In add-ijon teh dat, 'e's the best suited fer Cap'n 'ere. 'o d'ye expect ta take 'is place?" asked Three-ear, roaring with laughter at the thought of overthrowing his Captain as he peered over Hairpaw's shoulder at the dictionary. Unlike most corsair crews, most of Moonfur's was perfectly content with their captain. He treated them fairly and kept their ship in good order, though he was subject to random bouts of rage. Moonfur heard the rusty creak of the door beside his opening, then the rough slam as it closed. Moonfur smiled Whoever it was would certainly be heading for him, or at least would eventually. Hairpaw was a good sword, but he was a _little _too ambitious and disrespectful. Many of the crew had been wondering for a while why he hadn't just killed him already. Moonfur's answer was always the same. He'd get him when the time was ripe.

Someone knocked on the door. Moonfur smiled, he had been right. "Come in," he said.

The door opened slowly, and a searat's head popped through the crack. Moonfur gestured towards the seat across the desk from him. "Sit, Greywhisker, isn't it?"

The searat sat down, his sinewy muscles bulging as he sighed with relief. "Th-thank ye and yes, sir."

"Yer most welcome," Moonfur said, pouring a glass of wine for himself and Greywhisker. "Now, tell me exactly wot that traiter Hairpaw was sayin'." he said, getting strait to the point and drawing a bone-white dagger, testing it against his claw to prove his point.

Greywhisker gulped audibly, taking a large gulp of the Elderberry Wine to calm his nerves before answering. "H-he was sayin' 'ow if weh banded all together weh could take ye and yer mate down."

"Ah, I see. 'E 'ad no plan? Just charge up an' slay us all?" Moonfur roared with laughter, slamming his paws on the table, making Greywhisker jump with fright. "On'y a complete fool 'ould do dat, 'specially makin' 'is plans roight next door to the very ferret 'e's plottin' against!"

Greywhisker pulled his chair back with him, trying to get out of the way of his Captain's flailing arms, the dagger in his hands. "Y-yes sir. 'E said that ye'd be drunk an' asleep, 'cause 'e said dat ye'r a lazy ol' fool," Greywhisker nearly fell out of is chair as Moonfur slammed his dagger into the wood of his desk.

"Oh, 'e did, did 'e? Well, ye knew better, didn't ye, Greywhisker me ol' messmate?" Moonfur asked, getting up from his seat and walking around his desk to where Greywhisker was seated and putting his arm around his shoulders. "Now, I need ye to go an' fetch, me mate. Ye know the one, 'e goes by the name o' Blackblood!"

Greywhisker needed no second bidding, he left immediately, almost breaking down the door in his rush to exit. Only once he was a little ways from the Captain's cabin did he realize where he was going. Greywhisker stopped dead in his tracks as he processed that he had just been sent to fetch the most dangerous and unpredictable beast onboard. Blackblood the black fox was a master assassin, and he was loyal only to Moonfur. No one else. Greywhisker swallowed and kept moving. He would rather disturb the fox's rest than incur his Captain's wrath by not getting his mate.

All of a sudden, three rats came out of nowhere, bringing Greywhisker to the ground. He tried to dry for help, but one of the clamped a hand over his mouth. A second rat stood up and nodded at the two others.

"Wedgenose, Splitear, 'old 'im down. I'll make 'im speak," the second rat said, obviously in command. The other two rats, Wedgenose and Splitear, nodded back, pulling Greywhisker's arms and legs apart, forcing him eagle spread. Greywhisker couldn't move a muscle without dislocating his own limbs.

The lead searat leaned in closer, revealing his face. "Weh 'eard ye talkin' te tha boss, ye filthy traitor. Ye deserve ta die, aye, and in a nice 'an gruesome way," Hairpaw said, drawing a skinning knife. "Unluckily fer ye, all of the others 'eard ye as well. So know I've on'y got these two 'ere with me, 'cause you scared all the others off," Hairpaw inched closer, bringing the knife close to Greywhisker's neck. Greywhisker whimpered in fear. "So I got tha parfect punishment fer ya. I'll skin ya alive!" Greywhisker screamed, the other rats having removed their paw to hold him down. Hurriedly, Hairpaw clamped a paw over Greywhisker's mouth. "D'ye think anyone 'eard?" he asked Wedgenose worriedly. The other rat shrugged, though he looked a little nervous as well.

Suddenly, Splitear fell over, a dagger in his throat. A black fox came out of the darkness, a dagger in one hand and a sword in the other. Hairpaw and Wedgenose stood up and advanced on Blackblood. Taking his opportunity, Greywhisker fled down the hall. As Wedgenose lunged at the fox, Hairpaw turned and threw his knife at the fleeing Greywhisker, taking the other searat out. A scream rang out from behind Hairpaw. He turned around and gasped. Wedgenose was standing right in front of him, a dagger through one of his eyes and a sword through his stomach, staring right through Hairpaw with clouded, sightless eyes. The body toppled forwards. Hairpaw stumbled back as the black fox walked towards him.

"Captain Moonfur will want you alive," the black fox said. Hairpaw tried to run, but suddenly there was a sharp pain on top of his head and everything went dark.

* * *

Moonfur grinned broadly at his first mate as he entered. he motioned for the black fox to take the seat across from him, the same one that the now-deceased Greywhisker had previously occupied. As he sat down, Blackblood unceremoniously dropped the unconscious Hairpaw on the floor beside him.

"Ah, Blackblood, me ol' messmate. 'ow's it goin'?" Moonfur asked.

Expressionlessly, Blackblood responded in his low, raspy voice."I found thiz 'un in the 'allway. 'E was conspirin' wit two oder of de crew."

"Aye, but 'ow'd ye find 'em?" Moonfur asked, listening carefully to the room next door, finding that it appeared that they had dispersed.

Blackblood let out a barking laugh, one that would've startled most of the crew due to it's unexpectedness. "Haharr, dis 'un an' de oder two 'er threatenin' Greysomethin' or de oder. When I comes out 'o de darkness an' kills ze oder two."

"Ah, I see. Er, wotever 'appened to ol' Greywhisker?" Moonfur asked, fully understanding the black fox's strange accent.

"Arrr, this 'un here trew a dagger at 'is back," he answered, lifting Hairpaw's immobile body upwards.

Moonfur's expression darkened. "So 'e's now charged with mutiny an' murder?"

"Arr, sar."

Captain Moonfur stood up, motioning at Blackblood to do the same. "Go rouse meh crewbeasts. I've got meself a punishment teh issue."

"Arr, me sarr."

"Oh, an' don' ferget teh get somebeast teh clean up the bodies," Moonfur said, picking up Hairpaw's limp body and walking out the door and towards the deck.

Blackblood walked down the hall to the crew cabins, examining the woodwork around him. The _Poison Terror _had been designed for shore raiding, causing it to have been built with light materials. The wooden beams overhead were plainly designed, except for just behind him, where the Captain's cabin was. The woodwork there was intricately designed with scenes of destruction. Walking further down the hall, Blackblood knocked on one of the wooden beams. It was hollow, most likely to make the ship as light as possible. Reaching the crew cabins, all Blackblood could hear was the snoring of the crewmembers. Blackblood paused. That didn't make any sense. Only just a little while ago, a whole bunch of them had been joking around down the hall. There was no way they had all fallen asleep so fast. Creeping up to the door, Blackblood put his ear against it.

"Harharhar, that Hairpaw, wot a fool. 'E don't know muck abowt an'thin', 'pparently. 'E couldn't even tell us a proper plan!" one of them called out, sounding like a searat to Blackblood's keen ears.

"Har, ye're roight thar, Dryfin, 'cept 'e moight not even be the biggest fool 'ere," a second vermin commented. This one sounded like a weasel.

"Oh, is that so? 'O'd that be?" Dryfin asked.

"Dose fools Splitear an' Wedgenose. Dey 'cided teh side with 'Airpaw."

"Hahar, yer right! Ye always were da clever one, Foulnut me bucko." Foulnut roared, slapping the weasel on the back. Blackblood reached for the door handle, deciding that these beasts meant no harm towards his Captain, when another voice spoke out.

"Well, oi fer one think dat 'Airpaw might be roight 'ere, oi thinks ol' Monnfur's goin' mad!" an unidentifiable nasally voice rang out.

"Hahar, so yer a fool too?" Dryfin cackled. Blackblood decided the time was ripe. Throwing open the door and drawing a small metal mallet, Blackblood stomped in. Everyone in the room turned their heads towards the intruder. One, a rat by the name of Sixfang, Blackblood identified immediately as the nasally voice, jumped up with fright.

"Talkin' treason, eh? Filthy vermin," Blackblood spat, throwing the mallet at Sixfang's head. The rat collapsed in a heap on the floor. At this point, the rest of the crew in that cabin had woken up. "Youse two," Blackblood said, pointing a dirty claw at Foulnut and Dryfin. "Take dat foolish rat onte the upper decks. The Captan'll want 'im fer 'is punishments."

Dryfin rose shakily. "P-punishments?"

Blackblood grinned maniacally. "Yas, fer de fools. Hairpaw an' Sixfang."

The weasel and the rat gulped, though they picked up Sixfang's linp body and walked out the door. The rest of the vermin in that room just stood there, a little surprised by the recent happenings.

"Well, wat are ye waitin' fer? Git up on ze decks! De Captan wants ye!" Blackblood shouted. Immediately, the rest of the vermin in the room fled to the upper waited until everyone had left, then he left as well. He continued with the same process in the other three crew cabins, though he was unable to find any other traitors. Once he had cleared out the last room Blackblood turned, about to follow the last of the crew to the upper deck, when a large wooden beam fell onto his head. He was suddenly hit with a huge headache. He staggered about, clutching his head.

"Aye, make it stoop!" he cried, slamming his head against the wall in desperation. Suddenly, we felt an overwhelming urge to sleep. Before he even had the chance to consider it, Blackblood's world went dark.

* * *

A fox stood alone on the beachhead, shivering from the cold. He did not understand how he had gotten there, who he was, or even what he was. The waves were crashing against the tall rocks, sending sea spray every which way. Deciding that the cold was too much, the beast who did not understand who he was fled back towards the cliffs, caves, and protection. Reaching the caves, the fox settled down in the blankets he had found, already there when he had arrived. As he lay there, he did what he had done for the last few days. He thought. Well, it can't really be called thinking. He thought about lost thoughts. He didn't know how to speak, to communicate, he didn't know who he was, or what he was. He had no memory of anything at all.

The next day, the black fox rose from his rest and left the caves, doing what he always did. He headed for the shoreline to watch. For anything. Usually, he saw nothing. Only water and water, and the occasional shark, though he didn't know that what he saw were those things. This time, however, it was different. There was a large ship on the horizon, coming what looked like right at the fox. The fox didn't move at all, fear and emotion being strangers to him. A few minutes later, the ship had driven right up into the beach. A white ferret with a black diamond patterned tail exited the ship on small wooden plank, followed by three searats. The ferret walked right up to the fox, looking him up and down, sizing him up. The ferret was impressed. The fox was built strongly. With large, sinewy muscles running along his entire body. The ferret decided that he wanted this fox in his crew. The ferret, like most sea vermin, was blunt and straight to the point.

"Oy, foxey, me matey. 'ow'd ye loike te join meh crew?" the ferret said. Upon receiving no answer, the ferret tried a new tact.

"Alroight then, ye don't want teh talk, eh? Well, oi'm Captain Moonfur, Captain o' this foin vessel 'ere, the Poison Terror."

The fox still did not respond. In fact, he looked quite confused. Suddenly, Moonfur was struck with an idea. "Hmm, don't know 'ow teh talk, eh? Well, Moonfur," the ferret said, pointing one dirt caked claw at himself. He pointed behind him at one of the searats next. The rat hesitated, trying to figure out what his Captain meant. After a moment, he answered.

"Monkon," he said quickly, hoping his Captain hadn't noticed his failure to realize the obvious hand signal. Moonfur had, and he ground his teeth in annoyance. What an idiot. He really needed a new first mate. Then, he pointed a finger at the black fox. "Naow 'tis yer turn."

The fox still did not understand. All of a sudden, Moonfur realized that maybe this fox had had a complete loss of memory. That would explain the lack of fear, the apparent inability to speak and the confusion. Faking a smile, Moonfur advanced towards the fox. It wouldn't hurt to try, he had archers posted back on his ship that would kill the fox at the slightest sign of danger.

"Ah, 'tis you, er, Blackblood! Weh lost ye at sea quoite a while ago. Weh had thought ye had drownded!" seeing the fox continue to not speak, even look more confused, Moonfur sighed and tried again. Pointing a claw at the fox, he said one word. "Blackblood."

Uncertainly, the fox pointed a claw at himself and repeated the word. "B-Blackblood?

Moonfur half-smiled, this was going to be a difficult process. But a worthy one. Motioning for Blackblood to follow, Moonfur headed back to his ship, his rats and Blackblood right behind him.

* * *

Blackblood came awake with a start, sweat dripping down his face. He still remembered when that had happened, but he hadn't thought about it in the slightest in a long time. It was strange for such a vivid memory to come at him so suddenly, it was strange enough to terrify the black fox.

"A-are ye fine, matey?" a searat said nervously, coming down the hall from the deck.

Startled, Blackblood turned and answered harshly. "Arr, o' course oi'm fine. Wot could be wrong? Woi're ye 'ere?"

"The searat crept back nervously. "I-I was sent by the Captain teh get ye arfter ye didn't show up fer the pun'shments. Ye were all thrashin' abowt-like."

Blackblood smiled reassuringly at the rat, then lunged at him, putting his hands around his neck. After a while, the rat stopped struggling. Blackblood let the body drop to the ground, the spoke.

"None shall, see moi weakness, none at'all."

The black fox walked up the stairs to the deck, finding the whole crew amassed in a semi-circle around the terrified rats, Hairpaw and Sixfang. Moonfur stood right in front of the soon-to-be-punished, tapping his foot impatiently. When he noticed Blackblood, his face brightened considerably.

"Ah, Blackblood, me 'earty. Ye're 'ere! An' jus' in toime fer the pun'shments!" he cried.

"Yes sarr. Wot're ye doin' fer da pun'shments?"

Moonfur grinned wickedly. "Hahar, yew'll see. Oh, where's Clubsnout?"

"Da rat ye sent fer me? Oh, 'e had a traj'cal axe'dent. Noaw, ken weh start?"

"Oh, yes, weh ken. Dryfin, Kinda, tie 'em up. Foulnut, since my bosun ain't 'ere at da moment, come 'ere," Moonfur said, motioning for Foulnut to come to him. The weasel came, puffing his chest out proudly.

Pulling Foulnut towards him, Moonfur whisperd in his ear. "Bring one other beast asides Dryfin an' Kinda with ya teh the woodlands asiign two beasts teh each pris'ner, an' tell them teh spin em' each around five times, two klicks apart from each other. Once dat's done, get outa dere. Get it?"

Foulnut scratched his head. "Er, I thunk so. Why're ye given' 'em sucha weak pun'shment? Dey did some bad stuff, I thoughts."

Moonfur seized the weasel by his head and cuffed his ears. "Dat's fer me teh know and ye an' de oders teh find owt. Naow go! Off with ye!"

Foulnut ran off, yelling at Dryfin, Kinda, and his chosen other two. Moonfur sighed, looking up at the night sky. The moon was glowing brightly. Desperate times made for desperate measures, including giving up punishments. Grumbling to himself, Captain Moonfur of the _Poison Terror_ retired to his cabin.

* * *

_I am very, very, truly sorry that this took so long. There were several reasons. One, I was updating the other chapters, two, I was on vacation and thus unable to work on it for a while, and three, this chapter was longer than the others and required a lot of rewriting. None of those are excuses, I should have done more work while I had a chance, and I did not. Anyway, back to business. So, I may have slower updates from now on because I will be working on another story, but this will still be updated regularly-ish. I will start posting review responses in author's notes from now on, just so you guys know. Also, chapter names! If you haven't yet noticed, I named all of my chapters! Okay, last thing. I have a little job for you guys. I need a vermin horde name. Thank you, The Grey Coincidence, for your help, but I like to have lots of options. Okay, so that about wraps this up, I guess. Hope you enjoyed!_


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